Thursday, February 23, 2012

This glass boxcan't intervenewith the events around me.I can only observeand witness the mistakes of my past.This glass box,no doors,no way out,no way in.I was born here,and will die the sameUnless i can break free, shatter the walls around me. Make my own way out, into the world outside.This glass box,My lonely mind . . .

Will you dance with me in the moonlight
! spin in transient rays
translucent as fading rays reflect from hair
unforgettable unnatural but so perfect within
these arms finding strength just so to
hold your young body within between
that eyes so bright can pass stored
radiance forth till the bitter hearts
without will call the moon barren and defined

Nay! Resist we will that such a fine and natural sight
as our bodies pressed tight dancing in the moonlight
beneath the mystic unexplained feeling - Moon and love
Entwined like fingers pressing exploring discovering.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Turn that small body overScream if you willbut speak no words* to meKiss if you must move that sweet mouth

sweet so long as it makes no semblenceof sounds with soft suicidal meaning andwords that you ought not speak.

Dont look at me!Just take and giveWith a bitter silence tocalm a barren & scared mind

With pony up! in backgrounds telling youShut up and kiss meGood at first when self told liescan be believed before brittletruth seeps in shallow hearts

When awareness dawnsYou are a means not an endOut the door you walkor are forced to crawl

Terible betrayal of lessons taught toour youthful selves that love ispristine untouchable sacred like lifesmashed how the bamiyan buddhalost his life with no meaning found

Look away from my tattered formlight fire to your selfwith my smouldering soulthat i can feelFeel in your innocennce dieingfeel in your confusionfeel in the seperate selvesvalidiction of selfnow imprinted as seals upon cattlewithin a mind once tender and sweetnow bitter and frail.

Monday, February 13, 2012

I can create vitriol verse upon a short summer nightwith word poet and shriek bornbut these fond farewells live not insullen homes of broken vesselnostalgia burnt away withold verse and journal fill'dby longing and days passed in dazeso now roots fill'd with ash leftof words in hope of thisgreater day now faded fast